


Wherever the World Puts You

by sondering_on



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast's A+ self-esteem, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Episode: c02e041 A Pirate's Life For Me, Found Family, Gen, not quite a missing scene but missing introspection, the idea of Caleb giving Molly's token to Caduceus was Too Much for me to handle, with a whiff of pining perhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sondering_on/pseuds/sondering_on
Summary: The trinket in his hands feels like not enough and too much, all at once. The idea of giving away this piece of Molly was not an easy one, but it was only right—it was right that the legacy of a friend who fell to save their skins should go to someone who could spare them that fate.Fate.Caleb still can’t entirely wrap his head around the idea.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Wherever the World Puts You

“I think the world is shaping you into something important, and I want to make sure you get to wherever you need to be,” Caduceus says.

Caleb blinks hard, reeling for a second. Nevermind the last time someone wanted to shape him into something “important”— _push it down, push it down, push it down_ —this is a world of difference from that. This is Caduceus’s ever-patient gaze sharpening to something intent, the contact unbroken. It’s the drawl of his tone settling over Caleb’s skin like morning dew, imminent and waiting. It’s the promise of potential without the overbearing weight of expectation. It’s the support of a friend— _a real friend, he has these now, mein Gott_ —at his back.

The trinket in his hands feels like not enough and too much, all at once. The idea of giving away this piece of Molly was not an easy one, but it was only right—it was _right_ that the legacy of a friend who fell to save their skins should go to someone who could spare them that fate.

_Fate_.

Caleb still can’t entirely wrap his head around the idea, so instead he says,

“That’s a pretty big matzo ball.”

Some of the intensity in Caduceus’s expression lifts at the phrase— _always curious about new things, this one_ —but he’s no less confident as he continues,

“You won’t have to work very hard at it, I imagine. I think just being you, wherever the world puts you will do just fine.”

And isn’t that something else that steals Caleb’s breath for a moment. Working hard was all he knew, all he was, for such a long time—still is, in a manner. And being him—who? Surely not the echoes of his past, unknown to a creature as sincere as Caduceus, so it begs the question: who has Caleb Widogast become in the stretch of time since they met in the Blooming Grove? Someone worthy of praise, such as this?—of promise that doesn’t reek of smoke? The usual rebuttals against the very thought die on his tongue— _say something, say anything else_.

He thrusts his hand forward, the red stone of the periapt glinting between them.

“If you have this—this is magic, by the way—”

“I can tell,” Caduceus says, bemused, as he accepts the token in a sure grasp.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you—”

“I help you, that makes it easier to help all of us,” Caleb reasons, choosing to look at the stone instead of Caduceus’s face, missing the split-second wrinkle in the firbolg’s brow.

“And I promise I will continue to help you all. Even when we’re not the best of people,” Cad says, catching Caleb’s eye again, “I feel like we’re still moving toward something that’s good and worthwhile. I’m feeling the struggle’s in my way to bring us where we need to be.”

_Isn’t that just the half of it_.

Caleb almost wants to ask what he knows, _how_ he knows, but instead he just says,

“Welcome to the Nein.”

With a small, but warm smile and a brief gesture of the token in hand, there isn’t a doubt in the world behind Caduceus’s words when he says,

“I’m honored.”

The entire exchange feels almost like a fever dream, or like it _should_ be one, but it’s not. Caleb feels a little short of breath with it all, but not the usual way where his chest feels concave against his ribs—it’s light, like his lungs trying to catch up after a fit of laughter. He doesn’t know what to do with that quite yet.

“Well, I feel like shit, so I’m going to go to bed,” he says, hedging half a step back toward the door.

“Thank you for this, I won’t forget it,” Caduceus says, nodding amiably.

Caleb steals one look back as he turns to go and catches the soft smile on Cad’s face in profile as he ties the cord of the periapt around his neck. Something about that makes him breathless, too, the strangely bright feeling buoying him down the hall to his and Nott’s quarters for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone else have Big Feelings about this moment in particular? Tell me about them in the comments!


End file.
